


the joy in my heart is ablaze

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Series: Brighter Than You or I Will Ever Know [7]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Bondage, Cinnamon Roll Colin Farrell, Cinnamon Roll Credence Barebone, Colin needs some lovin', Consensual Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom Original Percival Graves, Dom/sub, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light daddy kink, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, OT3, Obscurus (Harry Potter), Polyamory, Protective Original Percival Graves, Self-Esteem Issues, Serious fluff, Sex Magic, Sub Colin Farrell, Subspace, Tenderness, Threesome - M/M/M, Weight Gain, and his wizard boyfriends are happy to provide, like this fic can be used as an antidote to dementors kind of fluff, obscurus sex, why is that not a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: Colin is crushed to learn that pandemic restrictions mean he won't be able to go home for Christmas...but his boyfriends have him covered.
Relationships: Colin Farrell/Original Percival Graves, Credence Barebone/Colin Farrell, Credence Barebone/Colin Farrell/Original Percival Graves, Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Series: Brighter Than You or I Will Ever Know [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973110
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	the joy in my heart is ablaze

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingramblr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/gifts).



> Heyyyy we're back! I just couldn't stay away from Colgradence ;) Especially not since [these pictures](https://twitter.com/CupcakeFoggy/status/1337789975325241344) hit Twitter and all I could think was OMG BELLY ;D
> 
>   
> 

Colin slams down his phone and glares as if it’s personally responsible for the bad news he’s just been given: the pandemic has kicked back up in the States. It’s not safe for him to go back to L.A., not without precautions that he doesn’t have time to take. He’d have to quarantine before going to the airport, then quarantine when he got home…and by then Christmas would be over and he’d be due back on set, and he’d have to quarantine another two weeks.

So, no, he’s not to go home. And he can’t go to Ireland. And he can’t leave this goddamn hotel for the month before filming resumes. He’s torn between anger and disappointment and sadness, and he honestly just wants to go _home._ In the old days, he reflects, this would be his excuse to drink. But no—back then it was all an excuse to drink. He can’t let himself think like that. Not now, not when he’s alone and angry and sad; that’s a recipe for relapse and that’s the absolute _last_ thing he needs, on top of everything else.

 _They’re coming up with a vaccine,_ he reminds himself. _You’ll live. Nurses and doctors have stayed in hotel rooms like this for months on end, working in COVID wards, facing death. You can stand it a few more weeks._

He turns on the shower and steps in, letting the hot water soothe his sore muscles. God, it feels like he’s always sore, always tired. He was desperate to get back to work, he notes with an ironic little chuckle, and now that he’s back at work all he can think about is how fucking exhausted he is.

Then again, work _is_ exhausting now. Quarantining, not being allowed to work out or go running to relieve his stress (he was cleared to go from the thirty pounds he gained down to a mere ten, but he’s absolutely _not allowed_ to get buff and toned again, that will “mess everything up,” per the director), being padded and made-up and stuffed into a heavy costume every day, and of course the requisite COVID tests—it’s all so much, and he just wants to rest.

Colin sighs heavily and shuts off the water, steps out of the shower…and is immediately wrapped in a towel by a pair of very familiar hands. “What the hell!” he gasps. “You can’t be here, what are you—”

“Sh-h-h.” Strong, warm arms embrace him, hot air flows over him and dries him instantly, his hair is gently ruffled dry by another towel. “We’re all clear, love. I checked,” Percival Graves assures him. “We took a portkey, not a plane. We’re healthy, I promise.” With a casual flick of Graves’ hand, soft sweatpants and a thermal materialize over Colin’s body, the warm clothes engulfing him like a hug. “There. Now come on, Credence is waiting.”

Colin gets another lovely surprise when he steps out of the bathroom: the bland corporate hotel room has been transformed into…something almost like home. The TV has been turned into an electric fireplace, the stiff duvet on the bed has been replaced with silk sheets and a plush comforter that looks so inviting Colin suddenly can’t wait to go to bed, the lights are dimmed, and the room now smells absolutely lovely…because in addition to a large vaseful of beautiful roses sitting on the nightstand, the little desk by the window is now groaning under the weight of dozens of boxes of Chinese take-out and bakery treats.

But the best sight of all is the pretty young man sitting at the foot of the bed. It’s been months, but Colin still can’t quite get past the initial shock of _wait, is that Ezra?_ before his mind catches up to the present and he sees Credence, really _sees_ him, and remembers—no, it’s not Ezra. Not even close.

Credence stands, comes over, kisses him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I missed you. _We_ missed you.”

“Me too, but you shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet, here we are.” Credence nudges Colin to sit on the couch and magicks a plate of food into his hands. “And you need to eat.”

“I’m fine,” Colin says automatically, even as his stomach rumbles.

Credence rolls his eyes. “God, you’re like Percy sometimes. ‘No darling, really, I’m all right, I haven’t slept in a week and I’m about to faint but sure, I can go a few more hours, I’m fine’—give me a break. Percy, you’re a bad influence. I don’t know how you can be so damn good at taking care of us but so shitty at taking care of yourself. Is that a Dom thing, or a _you_ thing?”

Colin laughs so hard he chokes on his own breath. One of the best things he did, he thinks with a deep sense of pride, was teach Credence how to use the internet. Graves will let a bit of 20’s slang slip now and then, but Credence is very firmly rooted in the 21st century now and it’s a glorious sight to witness.

Credence puts a fork in his hand. “Eat. And talk. Tell us what’s been going on, it’ll make you feel better to talk.”

He’s right. So with a sigh Colin vents as he eats, telling them how frustrating it is that he has no idea when he’ll see his sons again, or when he’ll see his family in Ireland again. “I’m sorry,” he sighs when he’s done. “Here I am ranting about how I don’t know if it’ll be one month or six before I go home and we still have no idea if you two even _can_ go home.”

He puts aside his plate. Immediately Credence sidles in closer, one arm twining protectively around his waist. Graves kneels in front of him and takes both hands. “Colin, you need to understand something,” he says gently. “We could have left months ago. Credence found a way for us to go back to our dimension.”

An icy finger just barely touches Colin’s stuttering heart. “You—oh.” And then the rest of it sinks in. “Months?”

“Months,” Graves confirms solemnly. “But perhaps it’s escaped your notice, we’re still here.”

Colin swallows hard. “You are.” That’s a fact he can’t deny. He looks at Credence, who nods encouragingly, and takes a deep breath. “Any idea how long you’ll stay?”

“Any idea when you’ll want us to go?” Graves asks with a smile.

Colin lets his head drop against Credence’s shoulder. He feels…small, all of a sudden. No—not small exactly, that’s the wrong word. More like suddenly aware of how big the world is, and how small his own world has become. And how profoundly, unbelievably lucky he is that he has been given the incredible gift that is the love he has for these two, and the way they love him in return…

Colin feels Graves’ hands squeeze his knees. His eyes fall shut as Credence pets the back of his neck. The part of him that always rebels at the idea of being held and protected has been sedated by the roiling storm of emotion inside him.

“Take me to bed,” he says. “I’m all yours.”

~

Colin is laid out on top of the lovely, soft comforter and told to put his hands over his head. Moments later he feels the thermal henley he’s wearing… _shrink._ The sweatpants shrink down to literal ribbons, and Colin looks down to see…oh _fuck…_ a soft, practically sheer white crop top and something that looks suspiciously like a red ribbon garter belt. The fact that he’s wearing what may or may not be women’s lingerie, however, does not freak him out half as much as what it shows off, and he lets out an instinctual noise of distress and reaches down to cover his stomach with his hands.

(Rationally he knows neither of them, especially Credence, will care. But there’s still that instinct to hide, to not let anyone see that he isn’t _just right.)_

“Colin, stop,” Graves says sternly, and Colin reluctantly raises his arms again. “Tell me the safeword, and the hand signals.” Colin does, and Graves says, “All right, do you want to use the safeword right now?”

“No, but—”

“There’s no but here,” Graves interrupts firmly. “You need to either trust me, or tap out. Which is it going to be?”

He’s quiet for a moment, his heart in his throat. He wants this, so badly, but— “I don’t want to—to _stop,_ but I—I don’t know—I need—”

A warm hand comes down on the swell of his stomach. “You need to relax,” Graves tells him. “You need to let someone else take control. You can’t do that if you’re so deep in your own head you’ve already forgotten how much _someone_ here loves the way you look right now…Credence, come here.”

Credence has obediently hung back, but now he approaches and kneels on the edge of the bed. “Yes, Daddy?”

“I think Colin needs a reminder of how lovely you think he is. Would you mind terribly?”

Colin meets Credence’s eyes. Credence stares back for a moment, then looks him up and down, shamelessly licking his lips. “I think I can do that.”

“I think you should. I also think you should tie him down, because he’s going to push you away. He doesn’t think he deserves what you’re about to give him, isn’t that sad?”

“You do know I can hear y—” Colin inhales sharply as something silky and cool wraps itself around his mouth. He looks up and sees that Credence has been obscured by black smoke, and then his eyes flutter closed and he is lost in the sensation of soft, smoky tendrils sinuously weave their way up his body, stroking and caressing his bare midriff, stopping to tweak his nipples before wrapping delicately around his wrists and holding them firmly over his head.

Credence has never done this before, never used the obscurus on him in bed. Colin has never asked for it, but now he immensely regrets that because this is _hot._ The tentacles feel so light against his skin, like a kiss, a caress, like _silk,_ but there is power behind them and even if they feel barely corporeal Colin knows it will do no good to struggle. Not that he wants to. 

“That’s it,” Graves says in a low, soothing voice. “That’s it, love. Give in to him. He just wants to make you feel good.”

And he _does_ feel good, really good actually. There’s something intimately relaxing about being tied like this, helpless but only as long as he wants to be, and knowing that it’s Credence’s magic holding him down _does things_ to him.

Credence stretches out beside Colin on the bed and strokes his belly. “This,” he tells Colin firmly, “is _sexy._ We’ve been over this, remember?” He leans down and nuzzles into the soft swell of Colin’s stomach, eyes closed in obvious bliss. “It’s so hot. God, it’s hot, you look so good and I just want to—Daddy, can I bite him? Can I mark him, or do you want to do that?”

“You go right ahead, baby,” Graves says in a low, rough voice that sends chills of pleasure down Colin’s spine. “Unless he safewords, sweetheart, he’s yours.”

With a moan of longing Credence dives in, leans down and seals his mouth over Colin’s belly button, and Colin lets out a soft gasp of surprise that is lost to the obscurus as his stomach caves in response to the attention. Credence sucks and licks like he’s being paid for it, sinking his teeth into the soft skin, leaving bruises along the surface, and then soothing over the spots with flicks of his tongue.

Graves hums in approval. “All right if I start opening him up?” he asks, and Credence must say yes, because he works a lubrication charm and teases Colin’s entrance with the tip of a finger. Those lovely, silky tentacles curve around his waist, one of them joining Credence’s hand on his stomach while two more hold his hips in place while Graves fingers him open.

And Credence’s mouth is _still on his belly,_ and he’s talking between licks and bites, and Colin’s entire stomach is wet with Credence’s saliva and marked with teeth imprints and bruises. “I want _more,”_ he says. “I want more skin to bite and lick…want to turn you black and blue and _red_ all over.”

He grabs handfuls of Colin’s belly again and squeezes, nails digging in, and when Colin whines into the obscurus gag he lets go and gently strokes over the marks with his fingertips. Another tentacle crawls up and circles Colin’s throat, no pressure added, just enough to hold him in place. Like a collar. The thought sends a thill of pleasure through him; they’ve never gone _that_ far before.

Graves looks up and sees it, and his eyes darken, a lusty smile curving his lips. “Oh, I like that. You _belong_ to us, don’t you?” He continues to tease Colin open, one torturous stroke at a time. Colin writhes under the touch, both _too much_ and _not enough._ “Say it,” Graves orders him roughly. “Say that you’re ours.”

The tentacle obligingly unwraps itself from Colin’s face and he makes a strangled noise as Graves’ fingers just barely brush against something inside that makes him dizzy. “I’m yours,” he agrees faintly, an unusual amount of effort needed to push the words out.

Credence gently cups the swell of Colin’s stomach, thumb stroking back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm that’s both arousing and oddly soothing. Colin lets his eyes fall closed as the silky tentacles tighten around him, more of them wrapping around him, as if he’s being cuddled and it…it’s so good. He’s not sure why it feels so good, but it does and he feels himself melting into the bed as Graves continues to gently stretch him open.

Credence plucks at the ribbons over his belly, fingertips caressing the bite marks and hickies. “So hot,” he says softly. “Mmm. I want this all the time. Gonna feed you up when you come home again…make sure you never get all hard and ripped again, just keep you nice and soft and cuddly, just like this.”

The ribbons suddenly vanish and are replaced by an obscurus tentacle, silky and smoky and absolutely delicious against the bitten, sensitized skin of his belly, and Colin relaxes a little more, his eyelids fluttering as a soft sigh of pleasure escapes him. He likes this, _God_ he likes this…and then the another tendril of the obscurus joins Graves’ fingers inside him, and oh God, he feels so _full,_ its so good…and then the tendril inside him finds and massages that spot that Graves just teased.

Pleasure bursts inside Colin like a party popper, short and sudden and almost violent. A soft _unh!_ bursts from his throat and then suddenly Credence’s mouth is moving slowly across his neck, nuzzling and leaving trails of soft kisses, and he’s speaking, his voice low and soothing. “Sh-h-h,” he whispers against Colin’s skin. “Relax. He’s gonna fuck you now, and I’m going to stay right up here with you, and you just relax, we’ll make you feel _so good,_ okay?”

Colin almost laughs. He _already_ feels so good, he doesn’t think it’s possible to feel any better than he does now, he’s practically floating. He loves this, feeling so full, so _safe,_ Graves and Credence both _inside him_ at the same time…

“God, look at him,” he hears Credence murmur somewhere over his head. “I’ve got him pinned down tight and he’s not even fighting it.”

Fight it? Why the hell would he fight it, Colin wonders; he can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed—and then he feels that tentacle moving inside him again, massaging and teasing, it’s so good…and then all at once the fingers, tentacle, all of it slips out, and he can’t help but let out a little _mmm!_ of distress at how empty he suddenly feels. “Easy, love,” Graves says soothingly. “I’ve got you. I’ll fill you up, I promise.”

Credence is still right there with him, stroking what remains of his hair. Every now and then he’ll give it a tug, and a little thrill of arousal will break through the pleasant fog over Colin and he’ll let out another little hum of pleasure, but mostly he just lies there and enjoys it…

And then Graves is pushing into him, and it feels _incredible._ “God, yes,” he sighs, and then moans as Graves begins to move, a slow, perfectly rhythmic pace, and he just lies back and relishes feeling so _full._

And the feeling of being wrapped up in Credence’s obscurus, held down by his magic, is so good, and the tendrils feel like spider silk against his skin—soft and delicate but so strong, so powerful—and Credence is still nuzzling into his neck, and a firm hand is pressing against his belly again, stroking and petting, and Credence is whispering in his ear—

“So good, God, look at you, just taking it…feels so good, doesn’t it, to just let go, just let him have you. You’re so fucking hot like this, you know that, all tied up and at our mercy…I’m going to make him tie you up like this and fuck you every night when we’re back home and I’m going to watch. Gonna make you wear crop tops everywhere, it’s warm back there so we can do it, make you wear those tiny running shorts and go without a shirt, and when we have you alone we’ll make you wear those garter belts…I want to see your belly all the time, every day, so soft, God you’re so sexy like this, it feels so good to touch you…”

And as Credence talks Graves speeds up, the thrusts coming faster and harder. “Little help here sweetheart,” he grunts. “Need you to help me fill him up, can you do that?”

“Of course, Daddy. Anything.”

And then the obscurus tentacle is inside him again alongside Graves’ cock and a wail rips itself from Colin’s throat before he can stop it because the tendril is pressing _hard_ on that spot deep inside him, bringing a pleasure so acute it feels like a punch, and then a warm hand wraps around his cock and strokes once, twice—

His orgasm is fast and searing-hot, burning through his veins like a drug, and even after he comes Graves just _doesn’t fucking stop._ “So good, you’re so good for me,” he breathes, and Colin feels another trill of pleasure roll through him at the praise. “So tight—Credence, look at him, he’s so good for us, isn’t he? Want to touch yourself, baby? Does it make you hard seeing him all tied up and laid out for us?”

Credence’s answer is a moan, and Colin feels him sit up, one hand still stroking and massaging his belly, and then an obscene _slick-slick_ sound that he knows is Credence touching himself, masturbating at the sight of _him,_ terrible haircut and fat belly and all, and _fuck_ if that’s not the hottest thing ever…

His second orgasm is a creeping tide that quickly turns to a crashing tsunami, pleasure cascading over him like a waterfall. It _hurts_ to come again, but Colin can’t bring himself to say anything about it, can’t make a sound other than the frantic little _unh-unh-unh_ ’s ripping their way out of him with every thrust. He feels his eyes roll up as Graves’ thrusts become erratic, slower and more grinding, and the obscurus tentacle inside him just _won’t stop massaging his prostate_ and fuck he’s going to die, he’s going to _die_ it’s so good.

“Oh _fuck,”_ he hears Credence moan, and something wet splatters across his belly, his chest, and then he hears Graves swearing too, and magic is moving through him, swift and hot and unyielding, burning him alive with pleasure, and Colin can’t even moan, can’t make words anymore, as his trembling body is forced into a final magic-induced climax that leaves him reeling, so overwhelmed by the feeling he thinks he might just burn out like a supernova.

When it fades he feels impossibly limp, like his muscles have disappeared and left his bones drifting underneath his skin. He’s so relaxed he doesn’t know if he can move, can’t even bring himself to open his eyes…

A hand is in his hair, another gently stroking the slight dip of his waist. “Come back to us, lovely,” Graves’ voice coaxes. “Colin? Can you hear me? Want to say something, just so I know you’re all right?”

A hoarse laugh. Credence. “If he can talk right now I’ll be amazed.”

Something warm and wet is on his chest, his stomach, gently cleaning the sweat and other fluids from his body. Oh. They’re done. Graves always wipes him down after they’re done.

As his brain slowly comes back online Colin makes two key problematic discoveries: 1) he is no longer tied up in the tendrils of Credence’s obscurus, and 2) there is nothing inside him. Suddenly he feels cold and empty, and an involuntary shiver rolls through him. Immediately he is wrapped up tight in something incredibly warm and soft, and his head is resting against a sturdy chest. “I’ve got you now,” Graves rumbles quietly. “You’re all right, love. I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

A slender hand rubs his back. “Just relax,” Credence’s low voice soothes him. “We’re here. You can rest.”

His eyelids are as heavy as marble but Colin slowly manages to raise them. “Sogood,” he slurs into Graves’ chest. “Feelssogood…don’twannastop…”

What he means is that he’s not quite ready to leave the floaty, hazy place he went while they were having sex, because he’s never really felt anything like that and isn’t sure he’ll ever feel it again. But he’s too tired to try and explain properly, so he just melts into the shared embrace and lets them pet him and reassure him until he’s ready to rejoin the land of the living.

~

It takes a while for the floaty, dazed feeling to completely wear off. Colin’s not really used to that; he’s usually good to go after a few minutes of cuddles. This time, however, an hour passes, and then two, and he’s still feeling kind of raw and clingy and more than content to recline on pillows, cuddled up between the two of them, and let Credence ply him with frequent sips of water from a bottle that’s been enchanted to stay just cold enough to be refreshing.

They turn the fireplace back into a TV and watch an episode of _Monk_ and are 2/3 into _Back to the Future_ before he starts to feel normal again. “That was the most intense it’s ever been,” he comments during a commercial break. He looks to Credence, who’s watching him with concerned eyes. “Is it always like that for you? When we…I mean. When you’re the…center of attention?”

Credence smiles and nestles down into the pillows, tucking his head into the crook of Colin’s neck. “Depends. What do you mean by intense?”

“It felt like my soul left my body,” Colin says bluntly, and both of his partners laugh.

Credence recovers first. “Yeah. I know what you mean. Not _every_ time, no. But when I do get there it feels good.” He reaches out and absently traces light, almost-ticklish patterns across Colin’s stomach. “You know, I wasn’t just trying to talk dirty earlier…I really do like you when you’re all soft and squishy like this.”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard you.” Colin can’t hold back a smile. “You said you’d like me even fatter. Like I was back in September?”

Credence shoots him a sly grin. “More. Like, that movie where you were stuck in weird hotel where everyone talked like robots. _That_ was hot.”

“So you want me to look like I did in _The Lobster._ Good to know,” Colin chuckles, ruffling Credence’s hair like a little kid.

Graves nods thoughtfully and holds out a hand. One of the fancy bakery boxes zooms across the room lands on the bed. A delicious-looking frosted butter cookie floats out and hovers inches from Colin’s face. “Well?” Graves prompts him with a grin.

“You know I’m not allowed to work out right now, yeah?”

“I’m just saying we both know you can’t say no to Credence, so if he wants you fatter, well…” Graves teases, and Colin rolls his eyes.

But when he looks down and sees Credence looking up at him hopefully he can’t help it. He sighs heavily, takes the cookie and pointedly bites into it (and, in his defense, those cookies look damn good and taste even better). “If I get diabetes you’d better make me some kind of magical insulin pump that refills itself,” he jokes.

It’s Credence’s turn to roll his eyes. “You don’t get diabetes from one cookie.”

“Well, no, but I’m just saying—”

 _“I’m_ just saying,” Credence cuts him off, “that I love you no matter what you look like, and if you want to go back to being Mr. Fitness after this movie is over, that is totally up to you and I will happily tie you up with the obscurus and watch Percy fuck you regardless…but right now it’s _literally_ your job to not look like an Olympic athlete, okay? So please, _please_ stop beating yourself up. You look great and we love you.”

Graves nods his agreement. “Absolutely. Couldn’t have said it better. Now, if you wouldn’t mind terribly…could you _please_ explain this damned movie to me?”

“What, how did they build a time machine out of a car? See, they never really explain how Doc made the Flux Capacitor work, they just—”

“No,” Graves cuts him off, “explain why the hell that moron of a principal picks on George McFly when Biff is going around punching and robbing people. He’s obviously a problem student, so why does he get away with it?”

Colin stares at him for a good few seconds before he laughs so hard he chokes on cookie crumbs. No, he thinks as he looks at his partners through tears of laughter, he is definitely not going to let these two go. Not for a long, long time.

He’s still stuck here in London during a raging pandemic and he’s still not really happy that he won’t get to go home and see his sons, and he’s definitely going to go on a strict diet-and-exercise plan when he gets home. But for now, he thinks, he can do this…just sit here and eat cookies with his fictional wizard boyfriends while they watch goofy 80’s movies and pretend, just for now, that the world isn’t such a mess after all.


End file.
